You Know I'm No Good
by Xian Chan
Summary: Ryan Evans, amongst other things, is the strangest and most aggravating person to spend the afternoon with. Slash. Tryan. TroyRyan. And a bit of smut. Definitely not for children. COMPLETE.


**Author's Note:** To distract you from the fact that I haven't updated Like A Prayer yet, or anything else for that matter.Unbeta'ed, so feel free to point out any spelling/grammar mistakes.

**Warning:** **There will be extremely explicit content in this one-shot, so if you are not above the legal age in your area to be reading this kind of thing, then please leave now. I've warned you, and I will not have myself be blamed. Again, you've been warned!**

**Disclaimer:**High School Musical is not mine.

**- - - - - - - - - -**

**You Know I'm No Good**

**- - - - - - - - - -**

He didn't know how it happened exactly. Lie. He actually _did _know how it happened. Lava Springs had been short-handed for the past few days due to a nasty virus with suspicious origins that was running around. Even the ever-stubborn Sharpay was struck down with a fever and runny nose and couldn't carry herself out of bed for that past few mornings to lounge in the summer sun. Taylor was one of the first to be incapacitated, taking with her Martha and Jason who had been sent home earlier in the week. Chad and Gabby were unfortunately amongst the casualties. Gabby said she'd probably be out for a week or so, and the same with Chad. Zeke remained cheerfully healthy, as did Kelsi, who had the cold a week before everyone else along with some of the other staff.

Fulton had decided that keeping everyone separated would diminish the chances of anyone else on his staff catching the flu. So he started handing out bullshit assignments. Troy was the one unlucky enough to get assigned last. With Fulton thoroughly spent on ideas of mindless tasks (surprisingly) that people could perform, Troy got Fulton's last burst of "great idea". And this is how he knew why he was stuck waiting hand and foot on Ryan Evans.

How Ryan managed to not catch the cold was beyond Troy. It had apparently come in through the clients and then gone through the staff. Where else could the obscenely rich treat the common cold? But Ryan still stayed unaffected by the small plague. It was a wonder actually, to see the blond boy bounding about in a what most would see as an unnaturally happy demeanor. "Troy," Ryan waved while dropping gracefully into his chaise lounge.

The next time Troy saw Fulton, he would tackle the man, and possibly find his fingers wrapping around his neck. "Ryan," Troy made his way to the boy, brushing to lint off of his uniform shirt.

"That's Mister Evans, actually," the blond peered over his unusually large black sunglasses. Even more unusual was that Ryan wasn't wearing a hat...at all. His hair fell right above his brow. He didn't have on a loud-colored shirt either. Just a white t-shirt that was obviously too small which read 'Royal Ballet' on the front and tight black swim trunks that only went down mid-thigh.

A blush crept across Troy's cheeks when Ryan adjusted the position of his chaise. Laying back, his trunks rode up even more than they needed to. "You're joking, right," Troy asked.

"No. In light of my sister's absence, I have taken it upon myself to replace her as resident bitch. Meaning, what I say, goes," He smirked at no one in particular. Troy couldn't even tell if the boy was looking at him, as the dark sunglasses covered most of his face. He had a feeling that if he did see Ryan's full expression, it would be one of superiority. "Fulton has explained the situation and I think I'll enjoy making you follow every single one of my orders." Ryan crossed one leg over the other and tucked his hands under his head, letting the sun soak into him.

Troy rolled his eyes and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Whatever you say, _Mister_ Evans."

"First order of business: I would like a drink," Ryan dictated. "Have Zeke put those fingers of his to good use, and make him mix me up a good cocktail. I could give a fuck what it is, but make sure it has no strawberry's in it. They're so passé." Suddenly, the prospect of becoming deathly ill appealed to Troy more than it had that morning. He made his way to the kitchen, mumbling under his breath the whole way.

When he had come back fifteen minutes later, Ryan was flipping through an issue of Vogue. He looked up at Troy in disdain, and then to the Absolute Passion cocktail in Troy's hand. "How utterly convenient. I'm no longer thirsty," Ryan pursed his lips. He threw the magazine on the ground next to him, and leant back once again. "Go give that to someone else, and bring back something sweet. I'm hungry."

Troy suppressed the urge to punch the boy laying in front of him. He instead stomped away with the cocktail in hand. Once he reached around the corner, he downed the drink knowing that he wouldn't be able to handle his assignment without at least a little alcohol running through his blood. Since when had Ryan been such a bastard? Of course he was Sharpay's brother, but he had always been the quiet poodle until recently. But he had never treated anyone like this before. In fact, he had often snuck around with Chad the past couple of days.

Zeke had thrown together Ryan's favorite ice cream sundae in record speed: Vanilla, chocolate, caramel, and two cherries on top. It wasn't hard really. It was just ice cream. Reaching back to the pool-side area, Troy found Ryan laying on his stomach, no longer wearing a shirt, tanning Troy guessed. It was probably useless as Ryan was too pale and would most likely burn before anything else.

"Your sundae, Mister Evans."

Ryan didn't even turn around. He breathed in, as if to yawn and waved carelessly back at Troy. "I just remembered, I'm on a diet. Mrs Desmond over there, " he pointed, "was just complaining about her lack of breakfast this morning. You can give it to her."

Mrs Desmond was probably the most vile women to frequent Lava Springs. She was way past ancient, with too much plastic surgery, and an affinity for young poolside boys. The urge to physically harm came back to the basketball player. He very nearly dropped the sundae on Ryan's back, if it hadn't been for Fulton interrupting.

"How is everything Mister Evans," the man questioned.

"Quite alright Fulton," Ryan said in a frustrated tone. "But I'm busy tanning. Don't you have paper to push or something?"

Without even answering the boy, Fulton made his way back to his office muttering, knowing when he was dismissed. Troy raised an eyebrow, wondering how Ryan could channel Sharpay so well.

"You should get that sundae to Mrs Desmond before it melts," stated Ryan in a bored tone while laying his head down in his arms. Troy did as told, with gritted teeth and all. He wondered how long he would go without killing the Evans twin. Walking back towards Ryan, Troy tried not to think about Mrs Desmond's eyes on his ass.

"Anything _else_ Evans?"

"I don't like your tone," the blond commented. "But yes, there is something else." Ryan leaned on his arms. His sunglasses were gone, which allowed him to look pointedly at a bottle of sunscreen laying in the chaise next to him.

Troy shook his head violently. "No way."

"I wouldn't want your job to be in jeopardy if my lovely skin were to burn, would I?"

It seemed the boy had an answer for everything. It was actually quite annoying. Ryan knew that this was Troy's only means of funding his future university aspirations. It seemed even though he and Sharpay had a small falling out earlier that summer, they still thought on the same wavelengths and had the same cruel streak. It must be an Evans' thing. Ryan smiled victoriously as Troy picked up the bottle of sunscreen and sat next to the chaise.

"Make sure to spread properly," the blond stated while laying back on his stomach.

If Troy weren't so horrified at the fact that he would actually be massaging sunscreen into Ryan Evan's skin, he would have probably knocked the boy's chaise over into the pool. The nerve! Not even Sharpay had gone this far before.

"Hurry Troy. I can feel my skin burning already."

Hesitantly, Troy squirted sunscreen into his palm, rubbed them together and made to rub it into Ryan's back. Before laying his hands on the other boy, Troy noticed the absolute, blemish-free perfection of Ryan Evans' skin. Unlike his sister, he wasn't very tan. But he wasn't too pale either. There was a happy medium in Ryan's skin tone that Troy couldn't describe. As he massaged sunscreen into Ryan's back, he could feel lithe muscle tense and relax with every pass of is hands.

Ryan was far from built, yet Troy could feel the strength in the slim body laying in the chaise. The basketball player moved down to the deep of Ryan's back, making sure to knead thoroughly, so he wouldn't need to apply anymore later. Although it was probably useless because Ryan would most likely find some excuse for Troy to do it again anyway. He ignored the low moan that came from the boy, as well as the strange feeling it gave him in the pit of his stomach.

"How long do I have to do this?"

"As long as I say. I _am _the one who has your paycheck in the palm of his hand," Ryan mumbled into the chaise. Troy would have debated the issue if what the blond said weren't true. In actuality, Ryan did have some sort of sway regarding the wages department. Sharpay had wanted to keep him here, however there was no doubt in Troy's mind that Ryan would be totally willing to eject him from the premises if he ever chose so.

No matter how nice an Evans acted, they always reverted back to old habits quickly. Apart from the fact that Sharpay was no longer doing everything in her power to have Troy, she was still the biggest bitch in Albuquerque. And for some reason, Ryan could care less. It seemed, once he was recognized for his talents, he didn't care what his sister did to others just as long as it didn't involve him being betrayed in any way. Maybe Ryan wasn't as nice as he pretended to be. He couldn't decide if he preferred Sharpay's outright cruelty, or Ryan's hidden mean-streak..

"Troy!"

The brunet was interrupted from his thoughts by a sharp jab in the side. He looked at Ryan, who was holding his sunglasses.

"Stop daydreaming," Ryan chastised. "I have a yoga class in fifteen minutes. Since my mother is busy today, you'll have to fill in for her as my partner."

Troy had never done yoga, but he was pretty sure you didn't need a partner to do it. "Is it absolutely necessary?"

"Well, no. I just like to order you around."

With that Ryan stood up and put his shirt on. Well at least he was being honest now. The pretense had gone, and Ryan would order Troy to cater to his every whim whenever he felt like it. Troy knew where he stood. Not seeing a solution to his predicament (for the moment) Troy followed Ryan on the short walk to the aerobics studio. Once inside, with the mats laid down and the soothing background music playing, the brunet felt how out of place he was.

Ryan was already sitting cross-legged, breathing deeply while Troy stood awkwardly. He didn't know what to do and Ryan didn't seem like he was going to be helping out anytime soon.

"Good afternoon Mister Evans," greeted Michael, the yoga instructor. Troy had bumped into him a few times in the kitchen during lunch break, always keeping a watchful eye on the sandy-haired, hazel-eyed boy, knowing that most of the female staff swooned every time he happened to pass. Understandably, the man was gorgeous, and if Troy could see it, Gabriella definitely could.

"We like to meditate before starting our sessions," Michael had directed the statement at Troy who obviously had no idea what to do. The brunet caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, and he was sure it was Ryan snickering at him. Blushing, he sat next to Ryan, copying his position. In the back of his mind while he was pushing thoughts out of his head as Michael instructed, he really couldn't believe that this was happening.

**- - - - - - - - - -**

"That was so relaxing," sighed the blond as he exited the aerobics studio still stretching the tension out of his arms. Troy was close behind him, looking rather glum. Not because he had just spent the better part of an hour making a complete fool out of himself while attempting to stretch his body in ways that should be illegal, but because Michael had given Troy a sympathetic look every time he had caught the boy's eye as if to say: 'I'm sorry Ryan is forcing you to do this, and I'm sorry that you're horrible at it too, and I'm _so_ sorry that in actuality, I'm only giving you this sympathetic look because I'm _such a nice_ guy.' How utterly embarrassing.

"I think lunch is in order," the Evans twin said as the pair walked through the pool area. "Troy, You're welcome to join me."

"Do I have a choice?"

"No. Not really. I thought we discussed this already?" They stopped next to Ryan's chaise.

"How much longer are you going to do this, Ryan?"

"Mister Evans," the boy corrected. "And I'll do it as long as I please. Sharpay always gets to have all the fun. Now it's my turn." With that, he turned and went towards the dining hall snapping his fingers as an order for Troy to follow.

The dining hall was full by the time the pair had gotten there. Kelsi was playing background music as usual while a few Wildcats were frantically trying to keep up with serving. A girl from the cheerleading squad crashed into one of the stoners sending plates and food flying everywhere, and Troy found himself cringing. Maybe his situation wasn't so bad after all. Ryan pulled Troy along through the crowded hall and into the kitchen. "Zeke, darling," he beckoned the young chef.

"Oh, hey Ryan. What's up," the black boy asked while mixing a what looked like batter.

"I'd like the usual for lunch. And take your time," he smiled.

"Linguini with olive oil, garlic, walnuts, and a side of caesar salad. No problem. I'll have it sent to your room."

"You know me too well," the blond gushed, waving at Sharpay's fuck buddy. "Ciao darling. Troy, you have a twenty minute break. Be at my room right after, I want to play some golf."

Troy stood there a few moments after, dumbfounded. He sat down on a nearby stool, taking a deep breath, and started banging his head on the metal counter repeatedly. He only stopped when Kelsi had come over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong now?"

"If I happened to push Ryan Evans off a cliff, would you be my alibi?"

Kelsi laughed and sat next to him, nibbling on some fries Zeke had whipped up five minutes earlier. "He's not that bad once you get used to him. I mean, he's making up for all the time he stood in Sharpay's shadow."

"But why do I have to be involved."

"Because your job depends on it," Kelsi reminded him with an oh-so-obvious tone. "People don't realize how much weight Ryan actually pulls around here. Sharpay may have their father wrapped around her little finger, but Ryan...is a totally different story."

"How so," Troy questioned. He couldn't imagine how Ryan could have anymore power than Sharpay.

"Technically he owns twenty-six percent of Lava Springs. His mother handed him the shares for his seventeenth birthday. That and an apartment in Manhattan, apparently."

"You are joking, right?"

Kelsi gave Troy a look that clearly stated 'Do I look like someone who would joke?' He shrugged and stole one of her fries. Life was so unfair. He wished that he was obscenely rich sometimes.

"I wonder what Sharpay got," the brunet pondered aloud.

"A private jet," the short piano player answered almost instantly. Troy doubted she was joking even about that. He briefly entertained the thought of owning his own private jet which he could fly to and from a his spa to his upscale apartment. Kelsi patted him on the shoulder, obviously sharing the same thoughts.

The two shared the rest of the fries, basking in their own self-pitiful poverty. In what Troy told himself was twenty minutes, he had arrived at Ryan's door in the newly installed rooms for those who wished to stay at Lava Springs for days at a time. Maybe even weeks. Troy was sure Mrs. Desmond hadn't left since she arrived at the beginning of the summer. His sharp tap on the door was answered by a frustrated 'Coming!' and a few moments of silence. Then the door was thrown open. Michael stood in the doorway looking quite flushed and with his t-shirt on backwards. With a cheeky smile set upon his face, Ryan appeared over Michael's shoulder looking equally flushed.

"Your late," he stated flatly.

Michael raised a brow and leaned his back against the door letting Ryan come forward. Troy averted his gaze away from the blond who was dressed only in very tight, and small white boxer-briefs with red star on the front, leaving nothing to the imagination. Michael only chuckled.

"See you later Ry," said the sandy-haired boy, giving the blond a peck on the cheek.

A blush made its way across Troy's cheeks and he found himself silently heeding Ryan's "Come in then."

He'd never been in any of these rooms before, so it was a bit of a shock to him when he stepped into the lavish living space. Troy was afraid to touch anything lest he break it and his parents had to sell their house to pay for it.

"Sit if you want. I have to take a shower."

Troy made his way to the king sized bed but stopped before he actually sat. He eyed the bed suspiciously. If he wasn't mistaken, Michael had opened the door looking completely shagged, for lack of a better term and with Ryan in his underwear, it wouldn't suprise Troy if there was sex going on before the door was opened. Looking back at the Evans, "Is it...safe?"

"What do you mean? Of course it's–" Ryan laughed. "Troy Bolton, you _pervert_!" The boy folded his arms over his chest. "Do you think we fucked, Troy? Michael and I?"

If it were even possible, Troy's face became even more red. "He came out with his shirt on backwards, and you're in your..." he trailed off.

"Would it _bother_ you if he and I fucked?" Ryan slunk over to the tall brunet in a manner that Troy thought was _too_ sexy for a boy. He put a hand on Troy's shoulder pushing him until the back of his legs hit the bed. "Hm?"

"U-uh..." Ryan pushed him down so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed. The blond leaned down, wrapping his arms around Troy's neck, his breath tickling Troy's neck. "N-no," he managed.

Ryan smirked. "Good," he whispered into Troy's ear. He stood up straight with a raised eyebrow and an even cheekier grin than before. He strutted towards the bathroom making sure to sway his hips more than necessary.

Without moving, Troy let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. He heard the shower turn on and the sound of What was he supposed to do until the Evans was done? If Ryan was anything like his sister, which was becoming exceedingly obvious as the day went on, then he would kill Troy if he touched anything. Like the television for example. Troy really wanted to watch television to help him forget that he was in Ryan Evans 'room' and that whatever just happened, did not just happen. But was it safe to risk a Sharpay-like wrath from Ryan for a few measly minutes of music videos, or game highlights, or even lesbian porn (to affirm his heterosexuality)? Decidedly, no. It wasn't.

He sat and listened to the shower run, trying desperately not to imagine Ryan inside that steamy shower, water running down him, his hands rubbing soap into smooth skin as he moaned in Herbal Essence ecstasy. Okay, that was getting a little carried away. Ryan didn't seem like an Herbal Essence boy. More of likely Garnier, or Tresemme.

There was nothing to do other than stare at the blank television screen, so Troy did. He stared at the screen until he thought his eyes would fall out. Luckily, before they did, Troy heard the shower turn off. He looked down at his feet, a little more than embarrassed at the situation that he was in, hearing the door the to bathroom open. He did his best to not look at the blond as he walked into the room in nothing but a towel, glistening and flushed.

The wet boy stood in front of Troy, grinning sexily at him. His hair was slicked back but only by water, and rivulets trailed down his body winking at Troy in a way that made him want to lick them right up. He dug his nails into his palms; it was all he could do to stop himself from actually throwing himself onto the blond standing mere feet away from him. He turned and began rummaging through his dresser, looking for something to wear. The towel around his waist tightened as he bent over to search the lowest drawer and Troy noticed his very own trousers doing the same.

As the blond straightened up, his towel loosened, slipping down his hips to reveal the slightest glimpse of a perfect ass.

"Crack kills," Troy found himself saying and staring at the same time.

Ryan looked over his shoulder at Troy with a curious expression. He followed Troy's eyes to the lower half of himself and smirked. "Does it now?" He turned back to his dresser and pulled out underwear similar to the pair he wore before. Casually, he leaned all his wait on one leg, smiling as his towel slipped down a bit more and the delightful hitch in Troy's breath that followed.

"We didn't fuck you know."

"W-what," Troy's voice cracked.

Ryan glanced over his shoulder once more. "I _said_: we didn't fuck. Michael and I. Contrary to what you thought before, we didn't fuck."

"Why," the brunet said before he could stop himself which was received by a light chuckle.

"I may be a little kinky in bed," Ryan turned around fully now pulling the falling towel from his waist and began drying himself off properly. Troy's shocked face was well worth the effort, "but I think I draw the line at incest."

The words didn't even process in Troy's head until a few seconds later, "excuse me?"

"He's my cousin, Troy. Michael is my mother's nephew. He works here for the summer, just like you," Ryan said nonchalantly.

"Your cousin. Oh. But the shirt?"

"Is the result of a small wrestling match over the last chocolate chip cookie."

"Oh."

"Relieved?"

Ryan was slinking towards him again, and all Troy could bring himself to do was shrug. Relieved wasn't exactly the word. Ecstatic. Anxious. Nervous. Those were all the right words. And they were all amplified tenfold when Ryan dropped the towel on the floor, standing mere inches from the sitting Troy. He parted the brunet's legs and kneeled between them, his hands on the boy's thighs. The room was suddenly too hot for Troy, and his pants were too tight, and the blond was too damn gorgeous.

Gorgeous in the one-_heterosexual_-male-appreciating-another, another that was currently kneeling between his legs, looking up at him with a sultry gaze that could set someone on fire. That was setting _Troy_ on fire.

"You seem awfully flushed Troy," Ryan spoke innocently. "Are you coming down with something?"

No, he wasn't coming down with anything. In fact, he would say everything was going up...in more ways than one. His day (amongst _other_ things) included. "I'm fine," he said.

"Yes, you sure are," the blond lowered his voice, tilting his head upward, looking at Troy through half-lidded eyes. He could feel Ryan's hot breath ghost across his face as he came closer. Troy stared at pink, pouty lips coming towards his. Hands caressed their way up his sides, then his chest, brushing against his nipples, and grabbing onto his shoulders, pulling him down the already small gap between them and making them meet in the gentlest touch Troy had every experienced. Ryan moved against Troy, wrapping his arms around the boy's neck, and holding both of them in that position of lips on lips. When Ryan pressed his mouth harder to Troy's the blond let out a moan which went straight Troy's lower regions, making his trousers even more uncomfortable. Kissing a boy wasn't supposed to feel this good. And it was only close-mouthed!

Any further thought was cut off when Ryan ran his tongue along Troy's bottom lip, begging for access which was happily granted. His tongue caressing Troy's, pushing inside the boys mouth, exploring every corner, hot and needy. Troy cupped Ryan's jaw with his hands, rubbing his thumbs over smooth cheeks, and then running his fingers through wet hair. He smiled into Ryan's kiss, as the smell of soap and shampoo made him feel light-headed. Ryan was slowly unraveling Troy with his tongue and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He moaned as cold hands moved under his shirt and up his stomach to stop at his chest. Fingers grazed his nipples yet again, this time lingering there until they became hard. Ryan rubbed his thumb over one, making Troy arch his back into the boy. His cock was straining against his trousers now, begging to be freed. Ryan attached his mouth to Troy's neck, biting fervently causing the boy to let out another moan load enough to fill the room.

"Ryan."

The blond pulled off Troy's shirt, throwing it aside. He slowly moved his lips to Troy's collar, and down his chest to a nipple. Sticking his tongue out, he flicked it over the hardened bud, relishing in the sharp intake of breath that Troy took. He did it again as he felt Troy's hands move over his shoulders and down his back. He took the nipple between his teeth, tugging on it lightly. "Oh god, Ryan!" Ryan smiled, kissing his way down Troy's flat stomach and plunging his tongue into the boy's navel.

The sound of his belt being undone and his trousers being unzipped brought Troy back to reality. This was actually happening. He was actually letting Ryan Evans into his pants. A place he had never even let Gabriella in their almost nine month relationship. He looked down at piercing ice-blue eyes. They were gazing at him with an intensity that Troy couldn't explain. As if Ryan was no longer playing, and had become serious.

_Are you sure you want to do this,_ they asked.

Troy looked into those eyes which held so much sincerity.

_Yes. _

Ryan nodded and ran his hands up Troy's thighs and to the boy's crotch. "Up," he whispered. Troy did as told and stood. The blond slid Troy's pant down and then looked at the tented boxers in front of him, Troy straining against the cotton. He hooked a finger under the elastic band, sliding it from one side to the other. Without further hesitation, Ryan pulled the boxers down, revealing the most beautiful cock Ryan had ever seen. Just the sight of the long, thick column of flesh jutting out made him grow harder than he had ever been. "Troy, you didn't look this big under those pants."

Troy blushed, not really knowing what to say. He'd never really compared himself to other boys before. Staring in the locker room showers wasn't exactly the brightest thing to do in a high school full of pretty closed-minded people.

"I might not be able to fit it all in my mouth," a comment which made Troy blush even harder. The blond ran his hand down Troy's stomach, pausing briefly to twist some of the curled hairs at the base of Troy's perfect manhood. He wrapped his fingers around the base, and slowly began stroking. Troy threw his head back, moaning Ryan's name, twisting his fingers in the boy's blond locks. He wasn't sure if he could handle this. It felt too good. Ryan kept up his slow rhythm, snaking his other hand up and down the hard, lightly muscled body. Troy's hard length twitched in Ryan's hand ready for more than just a hand. He licked the end of Troy's penis, tasting clear, salty precum.

"Stop teasing," Troy groaned to which Ryan smirked.

He stroked a few more times before pausing and looking up at Troy once again. He wanted to make sure that Troy say what he was about to do. "Troy, look at me," Ryan said. Blue eyes met blue, lust dancing behind both pairs. Ryan's lips began at the head of Troy's length, slowly engulfing him centimeter by centimeter until Ryan felt it his the back of his throat. He'd lost his gag reflex long ago, and took even more of Troy than he had first planned.

All Troy saw was himself disappearing into Ryan's mouth, wet heat surrounding his member as Ryan took more of him each second. "Oh, shit. Ryan. Fuck!" The blond slowly moved up Troy's length until he only had the boy's head between his lips. He suckled on it, watching Troy's knees buckle and the boy almost fall. Ryan smiled around Troy's length, moving down once again.

"Faster Ryan."

Ryan obliged, moving up and down Troy's member, stroking him at the same time. Each time taking as much of troy as he could without choking himself. Troy couldn't think. All that ran through his mind was Ryan's talented mouth doing things to him that he wondered if any normal human being was able to do. The blond head bobbing up and down, their eyes never leaving each other's, every time Troy getting closer to climax. His cock twitched again.

"Oh no you don't," Ryan smiled, removing his mouth from Troy's sex. He stood and latched onto Troy's lips with his own, pushing him onto the bed and pulling off the bunched up trousers and boxers from around his ankles. "I'm not done with you yet," he smirked again. He laid on top of the brunet, gasping as their cocks rubbed against one another. Ryan's tongue found its way into Troy's mouth, his hips bucking into the boy and sweet friction making every nerve burn with desire. The blond leaned on his elbows and stood on his knees then detached himself from Troy's lips as he opened the side table drawer with one hand. Finding what he was looking for, Ryan pulled out the lubricant out. "Prepare me?" He gave Troy a questioning look.

Troy was confused. What did Ryan mean by that? He cocked his head sideways, looking at the lubricant that Ryan was offering with a curious expression. What exactly was he supposed to do.

"It's kind of cute, how you're such a novice at this," Ryan laughed. He took Troy's hand, "Here, I'll help you."

He squirted a liberal amount of clear liquid into his fingers and reached behind himself, rubbing it at his opening, all the while smiling. He then moved Troy's hand down his back. His lips found their way to the brunet's once more, "One at a time. And then scissor, okay?"

Troy nodded, not completely understanding, but knowing he'd get it when he needed to. Ryan took one of Troy's fingers, and pushed it against his own opening, biting his lips as he did so. He closed his eyes and buried his head into the crook of Troy's neck, pushing the digit inside himself fully. "Hn." Ryan moaned into Troy, who understood what he need to do. He moved around inside Ryan, feeling the absolute heat around his finger. He pulled out and pushed back in, the lube helping. "Another," Ryan instructed, and Troy inserted another finger, slowly. He watched as Ryan's cheeks flushed in pure pleasure and spread to his neck, and his collar. "Nn, oh god. Troy."

Ryan reach behind himself again and position his finger at his entrance, pushing in together with Troy's. He nearly screamed when the sensation of not only himself but Troy fingering him hit him. Troy kissed Ryan. This had to be the hottest thing he had ever done with any person before. Not even times with his previous girlfriends were like this. Not even he and Gabriella were like this. "I'm ready," Ryan panted, pulling out, bring Troy's hand with him. Nodding, Troy helped Ryan straddle his hips, and position Troy's erect member at his entrance.

Without warning, Ryan pushed himself down on Troy, surrounding the boy in tight, velvet warmth. It was nothing like Troy had felt before. The thought of his length surrounded by Ryan made him moan and he didn't know how long he'd be able to stay still. Ryan was sitting on Troy, adjusting to the boy's size. It filled him unlike anyone had ever done. "Fuck, Troy. Once again, and don't let this go to your head," Ryan gritted his teeth, biting back the pain. Maybe he hadn't stretched himself out as well as he thought he had. "But you're bigger than I though you were."

Troy bucked his hips, desperately wanting to move, to feeling Ryan sliding along him.

"Fuck! Troy, don't–"

The brunet bucked again, moaning, pulling Ryan down to him, shutting him up by keeping his mouth occupied. He slid out of Ryan, who screamed into Troy's mouth, and thrust back in.

"You fucker," Ryan whined. "That hurts."

Troy thrust again, causing Ryan to scream again. It was a pleasured scream though, "Fuck."

"I plan on it."

"Do it again, you just hit my spot," Ryan all but yelled.

It was all Troy needed to thrust into Ryan again, this time all the way. The blond held down Troy's hips, blaring at the brunet. He began slowly, like everything else they had done, up and down Troy's shaft. He picked up his pace, riding Troy hard. The smacks of skin against skin echoed throughout the room, and Ryan's screams were probably heard out at the eighteenth hole in the golf course. Troy flipped them over, throwing Ryan on his back and plunging into the boy once more, thrusting deep and hard, hitting that bundle of nerves in Ryan every time.

"Harder, Troy. Hn. Faster!"

His thrusts became more and more frantic as he came closer to the edge.

"Troy, I don't– I don't t-think I can–"

Before Ryan could even finish his sentence, his body tensed, and he clenched around Troy's cock, coming harder than he ever had, exploding all over his and Troy's chest. IT was enough to throw Troy over the edge and he came with a resounding cry, spilling his seed into Ryan, and riding out the last of both their orgasms. He collapsed on top of the boy, his breathing shallow, and stars dancing before his eyes.

"That was–"

"–fucking amazing."

**- - - - - - - - - -**

It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, but sometimes later Troy pulled out of Ryan and flopped into the space next to the boy. They both lay next to each other, looking at the ceiling silently, Ryan with a smirk plastered on his face, and Troy with a furrowed brow. He couldn't believe that he had just fucked Ryan Evans. Especially due to the fact that he had a girlfriend who was laying in bed at home, sick, waiting for him to visit later in the day. There was something disturbingly wrong about this whole situation.

But Ryan was just so good. He was the best fuck Troy had ever had, and that was saying a lot.

"Get up, and get dressed. I still want to play some golf," came Ryan's demanding tone.

Was he kidding, because Troy wasn't sure he was up to doing anything at the moment. Ryan wasn't even that good at golf anyway.

"I'm not kidding Troy. I want to play golf."

Troy rolled his eyes, getting up, and searching for his clothes. "What kind of shampoo do you use?" He didn't know why he asked. But it seemed appropriate.

"Obsession–"

Indeed.

"–by Calvin Klein. Why?"

"No reason."

There was no denying that Troy would now have to break up with Gabriella. He didn't want to be the type of boyfriend who cheated (which he already did). And it would be a shame if he had to give up great sex so easily. Ryan agreed. Needless to say, the rest of Troy's week had been rather interesting.

**- - - - - - - - - -**

**Comments and criticisms welcome i.e. review...bitches.**


End file.
